Silent Hill: Interrupted Liaisons
by Dogs Bower
Summary: Henry Townsend wanders through his old apartment and becomes haunted by more than painful memories.


**Silent Hill: Interrupted Liaisons**

Henry Townsend wandered the lonely hallways of the abandoned apartment complex of Old South Ashfield Heights dwelling on thoughts of his former life and one time mistress Eileen Galvin. She had such a pretty mouth and she never did get to wear that dress to that party. He would have liked to have worn that dress just once. Henry groaned his skin growing hot as he rubbed the material of his worn jeans. They were growing a might tightish for reasons he did not really want to admit to his mocking subconscious. He slunk off into the dank dark dim crack whore and squatter infested shanty town that his once precious lively hood had disintegrated into. A roaring pit of laughter full of the disgusting cries of unwed mothers babies, piss stained old men who smelled worse than a burn ward in July and just a touch of fresh rat droppings and vomit for flavor. He stood silently and still at the far end of the hallway where there was a single locked and bolted doorway.

Room 302.

By sheer luck five years prior he had the good fortune of running into a tall sultry woman of the police force persuasion in the quaint little burg known as Raccoon City. She was a strange individual but he would have taken any help he could have gotten at that point in his life. He did enjoy the way her unusually large shoulder pads kind of made her tits seem all the larger. She being the master of unlocking quickly instructed him in the finer arts of lock pickery. And then she made him a sandwich. With her legs.

His sordid flashback abruptly ended by the fart of a passing mexican granny carrying a hot pot of streamed rice and pig skin, Henry picked the doors lock and went in slamming the door behind him so none of the other miscreants could intrude upon his visitation. He screamed, "Walter! Walter Sullivan! You sick vore and fetal womb fetishist scum laden filth encrusted dick smoking hippie!"

There in the corner waiting and petting a lovely rabbit made of broken dreams and the tears of molested or maybe it was just a simple cloth bunny, it was hard to tell in the dark, was the young man in question. Walter Sullivan. Walter placed the stuffed item of comfort and gentle strokage back into the memento trunk he had obtained it from and raised to his feet. "Hello Henry. Welcome back," he said with eyes of emerald and red fire tainted skies. "What happened to your retarded big mouthed girlfriend?" Henry stomped over to shove a thin bony digit into the stringy haired pale ghost man's blue poncho covered chest.

"Shut the fuck up! You're just mad I honestly had a real life girlfriend at one point in my sad and twisted little life, you faggot!" His face grew as red as the whipped buttocks of a BDSM club frequenter. "You make me so frustrated. I hate you," he grunted. Walter only smiled wider as his lover descended into the world of the undead with him. The other world was everywhere. Nobody could take it away. Not even Lady Gaga.

"You mad," Walter muttered with a giggle. Trolling was always his strongest forte. His childlike amusement only grew even more as poor little Henry became all the more enraged like a fat man who was told that the airplane couldn't accommodate his exceptional girth so he had to get off but they gave him ten free meal vouchers to McDonalds so he wouldn't sue. And he took them happily because after all he was a morbidly obese fucker. Walter suddenly was reminded of how much he liked fatties and his pants became uncomfortably tight. If only Henry was bigger. But he also was a bishonen slut fanboy and Henry was pretty bishi so it didn't matter really. "Henry. Your girlfriend really did have a really big fucking mouth. And she had like fifty seven teeth. Really dude. You should look over some old pictures or something once in a while."

"I SAID SHUT UP, ASSCRACKER!" hissed Henerrurry-kun and grasped the unwashed unshaven unkempt mentally unsound beefcake and thrust his lips upon his. The two men sucked face until they nearly bled the sounds of angels weeping all around around them and harmonicas playing in the distance. It was beautiful. Warutaruu slammed Henry-kun back into the broken bricks and torn decrepit wallpapering with the unbridled violence of the wet tongue battle he was engaging in. A fierce competition ensued as Henry and Walter shoved tongues down each other's throats for superiority and topping rights. Walter of course, being the villain he always tries to be, tripped Henry as he was lifting his leg all girlishly and Henry fell down, his tongue getting tangled in the adjacent window blinds. "FUCK!" he yelled knowing he had lost the contest of manliness and was now going to be banged about again like a prison bitch.

Walter descended on the trembling sack of man meat on the floor ripping of his jeans and other garb until only the soft pale smooth flesh was left exposed and ready like a fresh basted turkey. Oh he was going to stuff that bird tonight. Henry's groans of dissatisfaction only urged him on ever quicker. "Henry," Walter said hungrily as he ripped open his waist coast and unbuttoned his button fly. "I'm going to fuck your butt."

Henry's hurt looking sad eyes widened until he adopted an even more pitiful uke look. He trembled with wispy strands of mocha hair falling into his seductive face. "Not my butt!" he whined upon deaf ears. Deaf ghostly ears. Because ghosts cannot hear the cries of mortals when in a three mile radius of Jiffy Lube because the carburetor belt cleaning machine messes with their equilibrium. It's very standard logic.

And then Walter pushed Henry down onto his wonderful effeminate man face and assaulted the man's hard round ass with the passion and ferocity of a thousand screaming marmosets in heat. And Henry liked it.

"OH WALTER! WHY MUST OUR LOVE FOR EACH OTHER BE SO GODDAMN CONVOLUTED!" Henry shouted at the top of his vocal chords to the heavens above and to the satellites in outer space. His head slammed against the rotting wall with each epic thrust of the dominating seme's sexy scarred and tattooed pelvis. It even had these awesome stitches in it where he'd be cutting himself because everyone knows Walter is the biggest emo faggot to enter the Silent Hilliverse. "AH AH AH OH OH OH OH AH AH AH OOOH YESSSS," chanted Henry as his rectum was pounded satisfactatiously because all cool people write in the manly grunts and sounds of sex in a fic to make it even cooler and more sexish. And the wall went SLAM SLAM SLAM CRACK, too. And then Walter was like "UNG UNG UNG UNGGGG OH YES OH YES TAKE IT BITCH!" and then he came early and freaked out and pretended it was just blood from Henry's virginal ass. Because blood makes great lube.

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD AND ALL THAT IS HOLY, MY ANUS IS BLEEDING!" questioned Henry with fright and panic and scaredness because he was a hemopheliac. "I have to get to a fucking doctor, STOP RAMMING MY ASSHOLE," he stated to the raving unearthly demon madman perched behind him. "Pussy," muttered Walter.

The two lovely men unlocked from the intercoursal position and Walter looked down upon Henry and he laughed like nothing you'd ever heard this side of a Dane Cook show. "You know you can't leave here," he muttered. Henry stared up at him with tears forming and lip quivering like all good ukes do minus he had no tiny adorable sparkles and flowers to light the mood up. Because this isn't paper and ink it's a word processor. But maybe you can check deviantart and see what I mean.

"Why? I have to go to the hospital or I could risk dying like that Mr. Hands guy did only not with a horse dick which was the craziest shit I've seen and I'm never going to EncyclopediaDramatica ever again. But look up Pain Series anyway because it's funny," muttered Henry softly.

And Walter leaned down and he whispered into his lover's ear "Because your already in the hospital. You never left. You stupid little shit," he laughed.

Then Henry woke back up and realized the imaginary dream sequence Shamalan twist ending had been activated and he was only fantasizing such a scenario. He was in fact still locked within the safe confines of his padded cell like Sara Connor only he wasn't tough enough to break out and Ahhhnold wasn't going to be coming to save him. And he was lying on the floor with his pants down and the doctors looking in through the little observation window with disgusted and shocked and morbidly curious faces as Henry was finger banging himself ferociously while imagining his former lust object and hated adversary Walter who wasn't there because all this shit had happened like seven years ago and he'd wandered outside screaming and been chased down by police for killing the entire residence of South Ashfield Heights and locked up in the mental institution.

WHAT A TWEEST.

So he realized finally that he was awake now and looked around at the people looking back at him but then was like awww fuck it and went right back to happily and excitedly probing his fine fine tight butt hole. "UNNF UNNNG UNNNNFF YEAAAAAAH," he yelled for the security cameras. And everybody else got tired and went for lunch and coffee except Stan Freidman who was waiting for all the other jerks to leave so he could fondle himself. Oh that Stan.

**The End.**


End file.
